


Lost Without You

by DaylightWriter



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaylightWriter/pseuds/DaylightWriter
Summary: Quinn and Santana come to the realisation that the only people who can break their hearts are each other.
Relationships: Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez
Comments: 17
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am truly devastated by the loss of the beautiful, talented Naya Rivera. There are no words to describe how I imagine we are all still feeling. Both she and Santana are a huge part of who I am and gave me courage to be my own person. Please continue to hold her family and loved ones in your thoughts and respect their privacy.

Santana turned to lay on her side, head propped up by her right hand as the bed sheets tangled around her body. She watched intently as her companion moved around the bedroom, collecting discarded items of clothing before pulling her red laced panties up over her legs, finally covering the most intimate part of her body. Brown eyes travelled up milky skin, admiring the length of smooth legs that had been wrapped around her waist not even ten minutes ago. She was brought out of her staring by the sound of a throat clearing. The brunette blushed at being caught, eyes darting up to meet teasing hazel orbs. Santana smirked.

“What’s the point in putting those on? I’m just gonna rip them off you again.” She invitingly patted the empty space beside her on the bed, a suggestive glint in her eyes.

The blonde let out a breathy chuckle as she turned away from the all too tempting figure, picking up her bra and putting it on. As she fastened it below her shoulder blades, she heard the bed sheets rustling and felt a warm presence directly behind her. Her breath hitched when tan hands came to rest on her shoulders, fingers leaving a feather-light trail up and down her arms. A chin found its way to the crook of her neck but she still refused to turn her head.

“Come on, Quinn.” Hands were now caressing her sides just above her hips, causing her stomach to tighten as butterflies began to pool. She shivered at the husky voice vibrating directly into her ear. One hand made its way back up her body to move her hair to the side, lips pressing gently to her neck. “Take off your underwear and get back into bed.” A kiss. “With me.” Lips trailed higher.

Quinn tilted her head to the side, giving Santana more room to work.

“I’ll even let you be on top.” Teeth were now added to the mix. The blonde let out a quiet hum of appreciation, eyes fluttering shut. She could feel the smirk forming against her neck. A hand made its way to the hem of her panties whilst the other slid around to sit atop her bra-clad breast. Short nails scratched at the skin just above her underwear.

“Stay.” A nibble to her pulse point. “With.” A flick of the brunette’s tongue. “Me.” Fingers edged under Quinn’s panties as she fell back into the body behind her, feeling naked breasts against her. Santana smirked victoriously.

However, just before her fingers could trail lower into the wet heat that had just formed, the buzzing of a phone sounded through the near silent room.

“Ignore it.” The brunette whispered pleadingly into her lover’s ear.

As much as Quinn would have loved to have done what was being asked of her, she had an obligation to answer her phone. She reluctantly grabbed a hold of Santana’s wrist and gently removed her hand from her underwear. The brunette sighed in defeat, pulling her hands away from Quinn’s body as she relaxed onto her knees, watching Quinn make her way across the room. It took seconds for the blonde to retrieve her phone from her handbag, looking at the name flashing on the screen with a frown before answering it. Santana lay back on the bed, using her elbows to hoist her slightly.

“Hey baby.” Quinn answered with a breathy smile, turning away from Santana.

The Latina rolled her eyes at the greeting used, watching the other woman with envious eyes.

“Just at a friend’s,” another eye roll.

‘You do this with all your friends, Q?’ Santana thought to herself before immediately erasing that image from her head. The thought of Quinn being with anyone other than her stung a little, not that she’d ever admit it out loud. It was taking everything in her not to lash out about her former frenemy-turned-lover’s current relationship.

The pair had been at this for a while now, far longer than Quinn had been dating that preppy momma’s boy, Ethan. Santana had no idea what Quinn even saw in him, he was a total loser who always wore douchy sunglasses and openly bragged about playing polo. She hated him from the second he’d laid eyes on her friend at that sleazy bar two months ago. The very same night she’d planned on proposing to Quinn.

Sure, it sounds a little chaotic and unprecedented but they’d been sleeping together for one year and 38 days, not that Santana was counting or anything. It only ever started happening after Santana had relocated to New York following an amicable divorce with Brittany - they’d just drifted apart and realised it wasn’t fair to commit to an uncertain future. Three days after moving back, she’d ran into Quinn on the subway, who apparently came to her senses and realised she could do better than Noah Puckerman, and it turned out that the blonde had also moved to the city just the month prior for a job opening at some fancy law firm.

At first, Quinn had been shocked to hear of her friend’s divorce but this was quickly replaced with the guilt of having not contacted them in recent years but Santana immediately reassured her not to worry, opting that if Quinn bought her dinner they’d be even. Following this, the two soon fell into a routine, committing to a wine night once a week… Which turned into twice a week… Which turned into several nights a week only, the need for alcohol faded out and they soon found themselves practically living in each other’s pockets. It got to the point where they’d just assume the other was staying over.

Then, the fateful night came. Three months after Santana’s big move, she’d began toying with the idea of dating again, venting to Quinn about needing a warm body as they sat in the blonde’s apartment. This, in turn, led to them both complaining about their choices in partners, about how every date either of them had even humoured in New York could barely stimulate a toddler with the conversations they’d strike up. As Santana took a much needed drink from her glass, she immediately found herself choking on her wine as Quinn nonchalantly suggested that they satisfy each other’s needs.

_“Is that really such a bad idea? I mean, you certainly knew what you were doing at Mr Schue’s wedding. At least with you, I’d know it’d be good and I wouldn’t need to worry about you being a total creep.”_

_Santana looked at her with a furrowed brow, not quite believing what was her friend was saying. Quinn shrugged in response, taking a sip of her wine as if she had just asked Santana to go to the movies with her. The brunette’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a response. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she would love to have a repeat of Valentine’s Day all those years ago, apparently Quinn had a few secret talents of her own that Santana would be more than happy to revisit. However, this was Quinn. Her former best friend-turned-frenemy. Her only ally here in New York after the AnderHummel’s move to London last year._

_“It’s just a suggestion, Santana. Don’t stress yourself out over it…” Quinn stood up. “But seriously, consider it.” She threw a wink over her shoulder as she made her way to her bedroom._

_The brunette watched her hips sway before she disappeared into her room. Santana let out a chuckle of disbelief before downing the rest of her wine and springing up to her feet. She didn’t want to seem too eager but who was she kidding? Quinn Fabray had just given her an open invitation to her bed and she’d be a fool not to accept it. With a smirk and shake of her head, Santana made her way towards the blonde’s bedroom._

Santana sighed quietly, thinking back to the night that started it all. It didn’t take long for the Latina to realise how compatible she and Quinn were and that committing to a lifetime together wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Maybe it was the fact that neither of them had slept with other people since they began whatever this was. Maybe it was the fact that she had fallen deeply and irreversibly in love with her best friend. Regardless of the reason, Santana wanted Quinn to be her person.

She allowed her eyes to trail appreciatively over Quinn’s behind, zoning out of the conversation the blonde was having on her phone. She smiled as she took in the blonde’s soft curves, the way her hip popped out slightly when her hand sat upon it, how her underwear fit her just snugly enough to show off the bottom of her perfectly shaped backside.

The brunette found herself yet again being drawn from her musings when Quinn turned to face her, throwing her phone unceremoniously back into her bag behind her. Their eyes met, looks of dejection filling both brown and hazel as they silently dreaded what was about to come next. The blonde bit her lip whilst Santana gave her a small, reassuring smile, hiding the feeling of heartbreak that often came when Quinn left her.

“Evan win his polo game?” She tried not to sound too bitter.

The other woman failed to hide her amused smirk at Santana’s purposeful dig. “He’s at my apartment…” Quinn’s voice was quiet. “He wanted to surprise me.”

Santana snorted. Suddenly, she felt more vulnerable than she had in the last hour she’d just spent rolling around in bed with Quinn. As Quinn stood, her modesty covered by her underwear, Santana remained laying on the bed bare as the day she was born yet she couldn’t find it in herself to cover up. No, that would convey her discomfort far too easily. The last thing she needed was Quinn knowing just how much she affected her.

Silence overtook them. The air became tense. Both of them afraid to make even the slightest movement.

“Go home, Q.” It was Santana that bravely broke the trance. “Your boyfriend’s waiting.” She rolled over onto her side, tugging the bed sheets out from under her so she could finally cover herself.

Quinn just stared at her lover. Desperate to say something, anything that would convince Santana that she regretted answering her phone. That she regretted letting Ethan into her life. That she refused to let him label their lack of a relationship. That the last thing she wanted to do was leave this apartment… But she couldn’t do it. Not out of the fear of rejection. With a small nod, the blonde continued to get dressed in silence, stopping at the bedroom door once her clothes were on. She turned to look back at the woman still in bed, crestfallen that she wasn’t even looking at her. Quinn opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, she turned away, heading towards the front door.

The Latina lay with her back to the door, listening to Quinn’s quiet footsteps getting further and further away from her before the sound of the front door closing echoed through the apartment. She let out a sigh. The dim light from her bedside lamp barely illuminated the room. Santana felt her eyes begin to sting, her vision becoming blurry. She swiped at them before any tears could spill, refusing to cry over Quinn Fabray of all people.

Meanwhile, outside of her apartment, the blonde that haunted her thoughts stood with her back against the door. An inaudible sob escaped from her lips as she allowed the tears to fall freely down her cheeks. The heaviness in her chest preventing her from moving. If there was one person who could break Quinn’s heart, it was Santana Lopez.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your positive feedback. I was toying with the idea of making this a multi-chapter fic but wasn’t sure if people would want it so thank you for showing interest.

_Santana watched her partner earnestly, eyes trailing from the heels on her feet up to golden hair that sat perfectly just below her shoulders. She allowed her gaze to travel along the blonde’s collarbone, a small silver pendant dangling just between her breasts. It had been a gift from Santana for her 26 th birthday and Quinn had worn it ever since. This was all becoming very domesticated for the two of them but neither dared to address what their relationship bordered on._

_Brown eyes scanned the room momentarily before settling back on Quinn, the blonde looking ahead of her as she wrapped delicate fingers around her wine glass. Santana couldn’t stop the soft smile from gracing her features. Dressed in a simple black skater dress, her hair straight and minimal makeup on her face, Quinn was easily the most attractive person in the room – after Santana of course. The Latina, on the other hand, appeared more provocative in a tight, low cut red cocktail dress that accentuated her assets perfectly._

_This was not her first choice of venue when she decided to take her lover out to celebrate winning case. It was full of pretentious, pompous sleaze bags in fancy clothes who’d clearly removed their wedding rings prior to entering and you could very clearly see your reflection in the countertops. Santana had never been to such a high class bar before, she never cared for them, but when Quinn mentioned her colleague had bragged about this place, she knew the blonde was curious to try it out. However, judging by the look on her companion’s face, they’d be leaving as soon as they’d finished off their first drink._

_See, Santana wanted this night to be all about Quinn and if that meant having to sit around stuffy upperclass dweebs then so be it. Besides, she may or may not have been bribed with sexual favours in order to even step foot in this place and she was eager for these to be fulfilled. Instead of focusing on the nature of the bar, Santana zeroed back in on the woman beside her, now watching her with a twinkle in her eye._

_‘Ask her now.’ The thought snuck up on her._

_Just last week, Santana decided that she was going to ask Quinn to marry her and had even gone out to buy a ring, which was now securely tucked away in the safe back at her apartment. The thought of going through yet another marriage, especially to a woman she technically wasn’t even dating, should terrify her but truthfully… Being with Quinn felt right. They were practically in a relationship just without the label. Quinn even had her own drawer and closet space at Santana’s apartment, not to mention they each used their respective keys to invite themselves over whenever they wanted._

_Sure, it started off as just senseless, passionate sex but it didn’t take long for them to begin spending the night. For what was once rough, carefree fucking turned to slow, gentle, dare I say it, lovemaking. In fact, within weeks, the pair didn’t even acknowledge the nights they’d just spend snuggling closely together, trading soft pecks just because they felt like it. The line had been well and truly been blurred._

_Quinn looked at Santana with concern. “Are you okay?”_

_The Latina realised that she was in a world of her own and snapped out of it, taking a breath before she replied. She was just going to through caution to the wind and pop the question right now, ring be damned._

_“Quinn, I-,” she was cut off before she could elaborate by an unfamiliar voice to their left. Heads snapped around to see who had interrupted them. A scowl settled on Santana’s face as she took in the man before them._

_There he stood, looking like he’d crawled straight out of a Ralph Lauren catalogue with his beige Capri pants and green polo tucked tightly into them. His dark hair was slicked back as his hand grasped his drink. When he spoke, Santana swore his teeth could’ve lit up the entire street with how white they were._

_“Excuse me, are you Quinn Fabray?” He gestured to Quinn._

_Quinn opened her mouth but stuttered slightly, eyes darting between the intruder and Santana. She didn’t seem particularly keen to talk to him nor did she recognise him, something he picked up on as he began talking again._

_“I’m Ethan Brady, we had Psych 101 together back at Yale? We were partners for a project?” Quinn looked at him blankly. “And you don’t remember me,” he drawled out with a laugh._

_‘Now move along, asshole.’ Santana rolled her eyes._

_Quinn, however, was more receptive, out of politeness rather than anything else. She shook her head with a tight smile. Before she could respond, Ethan was opening his mouth again._

_“I don’t mean to be forward but can I get you a drink?” He gestured to her almost empty glass._

_Santana looked at him in disbelief, ready to step in and usher him away but Quinn beat her to the punch._

_“We were actually just about to leave after this one.” Santana sat back smugly at Quinn’s blatant rejection._

_This did not seem to deter the Nate Archibald wannabe. He raised his hands in front of him as if he was surrendering. “Come on, just one drink, I’ll even get your friend here one?”_

_The blonde looked back to Santana, hoping that she’d talk them out of this situation but instead, it seemed Santana heard free booze and delighted at the chance to put Richy Rich out of pocket. He’d probably leave them alone once he realised that Quinn wasn’t interested any way. The other woman watched with surprise when Santana welcomed Ethan’s offer, giving him their drinks of choice._

_Unfortunately, he was not one for taking a hint and Santana’s plan to ditch their unwanted guest backfired once he and Quinn got into talking about Yale. It turned out that Ethan was actually roommates in college with one of Quinn’s current co-workers and much to Santana’s misfortune, the two were still close friends. In retrospect, she had no one to blame but herself for inadvertently setting her own lover up with Calvin Klein but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter about it._

The brunette snapped out of her daydreaming at the sound of an overly obnoxious laugh coming from across the table. She could tell it was fake straight away but Ethan was none the wiser as his smile blinded Santana, carrying on whatever exaggerated story he was telling. It was as if time had slowed as brown eyes studied the obviously spray-tanned man diagonal to her. The contrast of his skin and bleached teeth making her want to vomit, she trailed her eyes up to his trademark slicked back hair, now with blonde highlights through it. Seriously, this dude puts the Jersey Shore guys to shame… And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses inside again? Surely Santana should be the one with them on considering his teeth were probably causing permanent damage to her eyes. There was truly nothing that she liked about this guy, he was about as much fun as one of Mr Schue’s rap lessons.

However, the grimace on her face was soon replaced when her gaze moved to directly in front of her. There Quinn sat, hair in a ponytail, eyes crinkling at the corners and her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she laughed – albeit falsely. She was mesmerising. Santana could feel her features softening with adoration. However, Ethan had to ruin the moment and directed a question to her, forcing her head to snap to him with an uninterested glare. Though her attention had been on Quinn, she’d picked up on a few of the words he had said and realised he was asking about her love life. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Quinn looking slightly nervous.

With a smirk, Santana replied. “There is one girl, smoking hot, we’ve hooked up a couple of times this week. Awesome in bed, probably the best I’ve had in a long time. In fact, I’m seeing her tonight.”

She could almost feel the heat of Quinn’s blush from across the table as hazel eyes met the floor. Ethan looked like he was seconds away from coming in his pants at the mere thought of Santana being with another woman, seriously, she could see the salvia pooling from his mouth. It was no secret between her and Quinn that the blonde hadn’t slept with him so of course Santana loved to tell him what he was missing out on whenever she could, not that he was aware of who she was really talking about.

He leaned forward on the table, hoping to press Santana for more details on her mystery woman. “So, uh, when can I, we, when can we meet her?”

Both Quinn and Santana’s eyes darted up to meet each other’s. The blonde bit her lip whilst Santana smirked, settling back into her chair.

“Calm down, Weekend At Bernie’s, you’re not exactly single there.” The words left a sour taste in her mouth. Not even Ethan’s furrowed brow at her insult could’ve cheered her up, usually it brought her pleasure to offend him, especially when he clearly does not get the reference. On the other hand, Quinn giggled quietly – genuinely this time – as she immediately picked up on the joke, something which did leave Santana with a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Thankfully, the two woman were saved from having to listen to him drone on about god knows what else when the alarm on his phone went off. He bounced up off of his chair, startling both Quinn and Santana at the sudden movement.

“Well, that my cue to leave.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Dinner with mom in an hour, she’s making her famous lamb casserole.”

Santana felt her a bruising kick to her shin under the table at the exact moment her eyes narrowed in judgement. Her expression went from critical to offended in a matter of seconds as Quinn gave her a pointed look that dared Santana to refrain from the teasing, a look which changed to shock after she felt the kick being swiftly returned. Before they could embark on a game of footsie, the Latina had to prevent herself from vomiting when Ethan leaned down to place a kiss on the top of Quinn’s head, muttering a quick goodbye before rushing out the door.

The tan-skinned woman waited for the sound of the door clicking shut before opening her mouth.

“He sets an alarm to meet his mom? Are you aware you’re dating Norman Bates? Does he prance around in your clothes when you’re not around?”

The smile that Quinn fought back was enough to melt Santana into a puddle. Dark hazel eyes lifted to meet her own, the brunette’s breath catching in her throat. Quinn had been throwing her bedroom eyes the entire time Ethan had been here, it was almost too much for Santana to handle but she managed to restrain herself from pouncing on her friend with her boy-toy still there. A sense of unspoken desire aired around them, neither woman bold enough to open up about their respective tearful night the week before. Sure, they’d seen each other since then but the only intimate activity involved was sharing a bath together at Quinn’s place and several occasions spooning on the couch. They could both feel the tension building but refused to address it, the fear of rejection higher than it had ever been.

Without thinking, the words slipped from Santana’s mouth before she could stop them.

“You’re beautiful.” It was almost inaudible.

Quinn’s entire face flushed. Her gaze dropped back down to the table, still not used to being on the receiving end of positive compliments from Santana… Though they were occurring more often than not these days. It wasn’t that she was self-conscious of how she looked, the blonde was aware of how attractive she was, hell, she’d worked hard to look this good, but there was something pleasantly intimate about the way Santana would look at her. It was like she could see every single part of her, inside and out, and that both endeared and scared her.

Santana also found herself blushing at her words, not quite intending on saying them out loud but grateful that she did. Now was her chance, she had yet another perfect opportunity to confess how she felt about the blonde in front of her. Before she could utter out the three words that danced on the edge of her tongue, Quinn stood and made her way around the table, gracefully placing one leg over Santana’s lap and gently lowering herself down, effectively straddling the other woman. The Latina’s arms came to support Quinn’s lower back, one hand sitting just above her backside whilst the other rested in the centre of the blonde’s back. Quinn’s dress rode up on her thighs whilst her fingers locked behind Santana’s neck.

The two found themselves trapped in a trance, just gazing into one another’s eyes. Time really did slow in that moment as they studied each other’s features, as if they were memorising every little detail. Santana pulled Quinn closer to her, the space between them now non-existent. The blonde let out a small sigh at the movement. The brunette lowered her forehead to rest against Quinn’s clavicle, somehow craving more contact. Quinn’s hands moved to softly tangle in dark hair, loosely holding Santana in place.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” A shaky voice asked.

‘I’ll stay like this until the end of time if you’ll let me.’ The reply in the brunette’s head was instantaneous.

Instead of verbalising these thoughts, Santana responded with a small kiss to Quinn’s collarbone. She knew it wasn’t really an answer but they’d both accept it for now. The brunette felt lips press against her hair, the woman in her lap seemingly satisfied with the response she gave.

‘I’ll stay like this always.’ The thought echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought! If there’s anything you think could be improved upon just let me know and I’ll do my best! I’m going to update as often as I can, I know where I want this fic to go, it’s just a matter of getting there but I hope we can all enjoy the journey together. Stay safe!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re all enjoying it so far! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think or if there’s anything you think could be improved upon! Thank you all for reading! Stay safe!

The sunlight beamed throughout the entire apartment. A cool breeze flowing as each and every window was open to its maximum. The low hum of the radio provided a soothing work environment as Santana hunched over her kitchen counter, laptop open in front of her with fingers slapping away at the keys. Tired eyes scanned over the report she had been writing for the last two hours. On any ordinary Saturday, Santana refused point blank to even remotely think about her work, opting to spend her day off with Quinn doing whatever they pleased. Granted, Santana could class any day of the week as a day off, it was one of the perks of being a publicist, but she figured since Quinn didn’t work weekends, it made sense for them to take them off together. However, this was one of those rare weeks that had Quinn galavanting out of the city for some lawyer conference and because of this, Santana was bored out of her mind with no other choice than to get ahead of the game with her own clients.

The Latina detested when her lover had to go on these seminars because it meant that Santana had no one to occupy her time with. It wasn’t even in a sexual way, there were so many little things that she took for granted like being able to escape to Quinn’s apartment whenever she wanted or mocking some dumb horror movie they’d chosen to watch. In the whole year and a half they’d been in New York, Santana had gotten used to being with Quinn. To put it simply, she missed having her best friend around. Usually, they’d be able to pass the time between meetings through phone or FaceTime calls but for whatever reason, Quinn’s bosses had almost tripled her workload, which meant the only contact they had been able to have was texting. It was torturous. Santana was practically counting down the minutes until Quinn arrived back in New York from Chicago tomorrow evening.

Tan hands came up to cover her face, a muffled groan of frustration escaped from her throat at the mess her client had found themselves in, no doubt assuming that Santana would bail them out of it as if she even cared in the first place. There wasn’t a single one of her clients that she even remotely came close to liking – apart from Mercedes, but that girl was saint. Truthfully, Santana was in it for the money. Her passion for the job was still as high as it had been when she started out, only now she worked with much less likeable people, and they were really trying her patience. These divas made Rachel Berry seem like a walk in the park. She leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand whilst the other drummed away on the surface, eyes wide and lips pursed as she considered how to handle this one.

Before she could figure out a solution, her attention was swiftly captured by the sound of a key turning in the front door. The brunette looked over just as the handle was being turned, perplexed at the sudden intrusion to her home. There was only one other person who had a key to her apartment and she wasn’t due back in the city for another 24 hours. Santana quickly glanced at the time on her laptop to make sure she hadn’t gotten her days wrong. Saturday 27th, 16:32pm, it read, just like she’d assumed it would. She briefly considered that it could potentially be her landlord. Had she forgotten to pay rent this month? Crap, she really had to get her own place… But the view from this apartment was far too good to give up just yet, pushy proprietor or not. In fact, she was pretty sure that the view alone was one of the main contributors for her and Quinn to have spent more time here than at the blonde’s apartment.

Thankfully, when the door was pushed open, her landlord was nowhere in sight and she was instead faced with a much more satisfying view. There stood Quinn Fabray dressed impeccably as always, key in one hand as the other reached behind her to drag her suitcase in. She wore a simple navy skater dress complete with black ankle boots and an off-white raincoat. Her blonde hair was curled at the bottom, not a strand out of place. She looked somewhat frazzled, Santana wasn’t sure if it was from the conferences or the amount of travelling she had just done but either way, the woman in front of her still managed to take her breath away. The Latina’s lips curled at the sight frozen before her. Her laptop was now completely forgotten about. She leaned forward in her chair, head still propped up by her hand as she watched Quinn with an endearing smile.

It took the whole of two seconds for the blonde to notice Santana’s presence at the table just several feet away. Her face almost split in two, hazel eyes lighting up the entire room, putting the sun to shame. Santana’s stomach was doing flips, not only from Quinn’s reaction but to the fact that she had clearly made her way straight here rather than unpacking at her own place. It wasn’t even like Santana’s apartment was closer to the airport, there was at least a five minute difference, which meant Quinn had to have intended on coming here for whatever reason.

“Hi.” God, she had missed that voice. The raspiness causing her heart to flutter.

Santana raised her eyebrows in amusement, smirking playfully. “Hi.”

The two just remained gazing at one another, relishing in this moment. Quinn slowly made her way inside the apartment, keeping their eyes locked even as she closed the door behind her. She dropped her key to the cabinet to sit beside Santana’s and let it land with a soft clunk.

“You don’t call, you don’t write,” Santana began teasingly.

The blonde rolled her eyes, maintaining a twinkle of humour within them. She removed her jacket, laying it over the top of her suitcase before crossing her arms over her chest. The sound of her heels hitting the hardwood echoed as she made her way slowly towards the still sitting woman, now twisting her torso slightly to fully face Quinn.

Quinn shrugged. “What? No big welcome home party? Jeez, San, way to make a girl feel appreciated.”

Santana’s tongue peeked out from between her teeth as she fought back a smile.

“Well,” she drawled out, her voice taking on a slightly higher pitch. “Since you weren’t due back for another day, I think it’s you that owes me a welcome home party.”

The other woman’s face scrunched up with confusion, continuing her slow prowl towards her lover. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Santana let out a quiet snort as she sat up straighter. She rested her elbow over the back of her chair and let the other one lay flat on the table.

“Whatever. Get over here, you want a welcome or what, Lucy Q?”

Again, Quinn rolled her eyes at the retort but finally came to a halt in front of Santana. She leaned down, placing one hand on back of the chair and the other at the end of the table, fingers curling around the edge. With this angle, Santana had a clear view straight down her cleavage, which she obviously took advantage of. Quinn moved her face in closer to the Latina’s but before their mouths could meet, she froze, millimetres away from planting a kiss on the other woman. Santana huffed out a breath. Brown eyes were jumping from hazel orbs to teasing lips.

“Did you miss me?” Lips grazed one another as Quinn spoke in a murmur. Their breath mingled, the tips of their noses caressing one another’s whilst eyes were drawn to mouths.

Santana tried to catch her off guard by moving forward to capture her lips but Quinn was faster, jerking her head back with a mischievous glint. The brunette almost growled at the setback. Her fingers gripped both the chair and the table tighter, knuckles going white. There was no way Quinn would get her to admit that she missed her.

“Say it, Santana.” The blonde leaned into the side of her lover’s face, cheeks touching as lips brushed against the Latina’s ear. “Tell me how badly you wanted me here.” Quinn’s voice was dripping with arousal. “With you.” Her tongue flicked at Santana’s ear lobe, the brunette’s rolling at the feeling. “Tell me you missed me.” A nibble to said earlobe.

Santana uttered out a single curse. Maybe Quinn could get her to admit it out loud. Maybe Santana could even show her just much she missed her. She carefully removed her hand from the table and moved it to Quinn’s waist, stroking her side with her thumb. Unfortunately, the blonde had other ideas and swiftly removed the hand, placing it back on the table. She pulled back from Santana’s face and smirked at the reaction she had caused. The Latina’s eyes were practically blackened and hazed, her breathing was uneven despite her attempts to control it and her chest heaved slightly. Quinn’s eyes, however, were full of mirth, looking from Santana to the long forgotten laptop still sitting on the report the publicist had been working on.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She pulled away and stood up straight, much to Santana’s chagrin. Before the other woman could even suggest she join her, Quinn added, “looks like you have a lot to work through.” She gestured to the computer and began heading towards the bathroom. “Guess I’ll just clean myself up.”

The Latina watched as Quinn purposefully swayed her hips before disappearing around the corner. She sat back in her chair, sliding down it and gingerly lay her head along the back of it, exhaling through pursed lips. As much as Santana would have loved to join Quinn in the shower, but it didn’t take a genius to see how exhausted the blonde was regardless of how well she carried herself. She sat up and hunched over her laptop again, quickly scanning what she had typed before deciding that she had done more than enough work today and saved it, snapping the screen down. The brunette heard the shower turn on and an idea popped into her head. She stood to find a piece of paper, quickly scribbling on it and placing it just beside her laptop. Santana moved through her apartment, dragging Quinn’s abandoned suitcase to her bedroom and grabbing a pair of converse to throw on. In minutes, she was out the door, practically jogging down the stairs.

Santana shoved her hands in her jacket pockets as she power walked down the street, intent on getting to each of her destinations and back home within the hour. Sure, she’d considered taking her car but honestly, she preferred to take in the scenery and besides, public transport was an experience in itself if she needed it.

In an impressive – and probably record – twenty minutes, Santana had managed to gather everything she had been looking for. On her way back, she had an extra skip to her step and a smile on her face, uncaring of who was to see her. She’d probably beat the crap out of them if they acted in any way that resembled judgement but who was she kidding? Her mind was focused solely on the company that she had waiting for her back home. It was like she was in the midst of some cheesy rom-com and everyone would just break into song around her, god, Berry would have a field day with this.

When she arrived at her apartment, she locked the door behind her, hearing Quinn singing along to the radio from her place in Santana’s bedroom. The brunette’s eyes lit up at the sound. From an outsider’s perspective, they would appear as the most blissful couple. It was all very domestic of them, perhaps even rehearsed as it seemed as though they had been at this routine for years. Santana made her way over to the open-plan living room, setting the bag and boxes she was balancing down on the coffee table just in front of the couch. As if she sensed the Latina’s presence, Quinn sauntered out of the bedroom dressed more comfortably in a pair of sweatpants and one of Santana’s old McKinley gym shirts from high school, blonde hair tied into a top knot. Her face was completely bare of makeup, a sight reserved only for Santana. The brunette felt her breath catch.

Quinn looked at her with a grin. “I got your note.” All Santana had written for Quinn to get comfortable and that she might have something special in mind for the blonde’s return from Chicago. “What’s in the bag?” She came to a stop behind the couch, grasping the top of it with both hands, arms slightly stretched out.

“Well, young Quinnevere, we,” Santana reached into the bag, “are gonna have a movie night, filled with all your crappy old school classics and the most disgusting snacks that would have Coach frothing from every orifice… And I got a couple of pizzas, all with extra bacon.” She pulled out three DVDs before continuing to remove various candies and sweet treats from the bag.

To anyone else, it wasn’t a big deal – a movie night that is – but to Quinn, it was probably one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her, especially considering she knew how much Santana hated The Princess Bride. The blonde walked around the couch to stand in front of Santana, pale arms reaching up to sit over her shoulders whilst Santana’s immediately wrapped around her waist in response, locking her fingers at Quinn’s lower back. Neither knew who began swaying them smoothly.

“What’s the occasion, Lopez? You know you don’t need to butter me up to have sex with you.” Her tone was teasing but the underlying connotation was there nonetheless.

Santana forced herself to block the scoff that had just bubbled up. Instead she shrugged.

“I figured you’d wanna relax tonight,” her voice was timid. “You’re clearly exhausted from saving those lame suits’ asses the whole week. I didn’t want you coming here just for the expectation of sex. You deserve nice things too, Q.”

There was something about the way Quinn was looking at her that she couldn’t quite place. It was as if she was staring directly into Santana’s soul. The intensity of the other woman’s gaze was making the publicist anxious. If Santana didn’t know any better, she’d say Quinn was about to break down into tears… And they both knew that the Latina was not equipped for dealing with those sort of emotions right now.

“Besides,” she continued, hoping that she was able to regain some of that Lima Heights rep in her voice, “what kind of a friend would I be if I let you watch these pathetic movies about creepy stalker guys who think aggression is sexy alone? Someone needs to slap some sense into you.”

Hazel eyes rolled playfully. “You just never know when to shut up, do you?”

It was rhetorical but as always, Santana had an answer.

However, the words were caught in her mouth before she could even get the first syllable out as Quinn was pressing their lips together, a frequent and successful method to getting Santana to keep from running her mouth. They stood there for the next several minutes locked in the embrace, no longer swaying but both feeling as though they were on cloud nine. The kiss wasn’t messy, it wasn’t rough, there was no fighting for dominance… It was slow, serene, careful even. Heads would turn every so often to adjust the angle. Tongues would lightly caress one another teasingly, not quite venturing deep enough for one to have control over the kiss. In Santana’s mind, she was doing her best to convey everything single thing that she felt for the blonde. She squeezed her arms tighter around Quinn’s waist, pulling her closer in the process. A small moan escaped the paler woman’s lips at the movement, an exhale of satisfaction through her nose.

This kiss was forbidden to them. This was not the kiss that two best friends turned friends with benefits should be sharing but neither of them cared to break it. Neither of them cared to address the moment that boundaries were crossed so many months ago.

Santana’s hands pressed flat against Quinn’s back almost as if she was trying to pull her tighter against her. There was no space whatsoever between them.

It seemed as though an eternity had passed before they broke for a proper oxygen break. Their foreheads remained pressed together, neither of them ready to pull apart. To lose the contact they each desperately craved. Santana placed a small peck against Quinn’s lips before repeating the action a number of times. The blonde let out a hum.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have sex tonight?” The words were teasing.

A smile took control of Santana’s lips. “Go put the damn movie on. I’m gonna shower real quick.”

With reluctance on both parts, they untangled from one another. Santana headed to the bathroom, turning the radio off on her way whilst Quinn set up the DVD and scattered the snacks over the table. She had been curious as to how the brunette had managed to even find physical copies of the movies on such a short timescale but with Santana, she’d learned not to question what she was capable of. Quinn also couldn’t help but notice that, instead of wine, Santana had picked up soda and she smiled in appreciation. See, Quinn hated drinking any form of alcohol after travelling because she was always so drained that she’d probably pass out after her first glass. After ensuring that everything was good to go, she took a seat on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her.

Santana returned moments later. Dark haired tied up in a messy bun, glasses donning her makeup free face. Her tank top was just loose enough to be considered comfortable and her tan legs were on full display in her sleep shorts. It may still only be late afternoon, early evening but she wanted Quinn to get some enjoyment out of tonight before she inevitably fell asleep early. She plopped herself down beside the blonde, stretching her legs so that her feet crossed on the table. As soon as her feet touched the wood, Quinn had pressed play and it took all of Santana’s willpower not to roll her eyes as the familiar opening blared through the speakers. It may be one of Quinn’s favourite movies but Santana thought it well and truly sucked.

Despite stuffing her face with the snacks she had bought, Santana sure did have a lot to comment on about the movie. At this rate, Quinn had learned to zone out of the brunette’s rants. Somehow, every time they watched this, Santana found something new to mock and right now, it was the obvious use of a male stunt double for the female lead. It was literally only noticeable for a split second of one frame but Santana refused to let it go and it was really beginning to irritate Quinn.

“I mean, come on, they couldn’t find one woman willing to roll down that small ass hill? Please, even Berry-” she was abruptly cut off in the middle of her rant.

“Santana!” The brunette jumped at Quinn’s frustrated shriek. “I get it, the feminist movement was setback but can you please,” the ‘please’ was sharp, “stop. Talking.”

Santana’s eyes were wide before her brow furrowed in annoyance at being scolded like a child. She sank into the couch with a scowl on her face, lips pouting as she grumpily chewed on a couple of M&M’s.

Quinn revelled in her victory, trying not to laugh when she saw the petulant look on Santana’s face. Her glory in silencing Santana was short lived, however, as five minutes later, the brunette was purposefully smacking her lips together – creating a popping noise – for no other reason than to piss Quinn off. Hazel eyes narrowed but she continued to ignore her lover, assuming she’d stop when Quinn didn’t give her the attention she clearly wanted. Unfortunately for the blonde, ignorance was not on her side because the popping was ongoing. Willing herself not to respond, Quinn tightened her jaw. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Santana smirking but both women kept their gazes ahead of them.

Eventually, Quinn couldn’t take any more and smacked Santana’s shoulder with her hand. Hard. The brunette’s head snapped around to glare at Quinn, yet the smirk she was failing to conceal gave away the fact that she wasn’t even phased by the smack.

“Umm, ow!” The reaction was delayed and Quinn could hear the sarcasm dripping in the air.

The blonde just shrugged. “You deserved it.”

Feeling devious and wanting to exact revenge, Santana reached her arm out and shoved Quinn’s shoulder. It wasn’t enough to knock her over but she still jolted.

The blonde’s head whipped around, both jaw and eyes wide. Santana flicked her face forward in a challenging motion that all but screamed ‘bring it’.

With the movie forgotten about, Quinn pounced, pushing Santana into the couch until she was laying flat against the arm. The blonde moved quickly to straddle her and grabbed a cushion before repeatedly hitting the Latina in the chest over and over again. Laughter overtaking the sound of the TV. Santana made feeble attempts at batting the cushion away, she could easily overpower Quinn if she wanted to but she was enjoying the weight of the other woman far too much. After a few more brief moments of Quinn getting a free shot at her, Santana decided to fight back, hands going to Quinn’s sides in an instant. The blonde gasped as she realised what Santana was about to do and dropped the cushion onto the floor, trying to wiggle free from the hands poking at her.

“San-tana,” she gasped out between giggles, “stop.”

The Latina wasn’t through with her fun. Since Quinn was distracted by trying to free herself, Santana took the opportunity to flip them around so that she was nestled between Quinn’s thighs. The other woman let out a squeal at the movement, tears of joy streaming from her eyes when Santana continued her merciless tickle attack. She could feel Quinn’s stomach tighten beneath her hands. Legs were wrapping tighter around her waist, the heels of Quinn’s feet digging in Santana’s back as the blonde lost control of her movements. Pale hands were weakly pushing at Santana’s.

“You started this, Q.” She laughed out, feeling her heart melt at the sound of Quinn’s cackle.

Another squeal. “I’m sorry.”

Santana continued, pretending like she couldn’t hear her. “What was that? I can’t hear you.” Her smile was wide.

Quinn’s howl of laughter could have been heard from down the street. The blonde felt like she couldn’t breath but in the most pleasant way possible.

It took a matter of seconds for Santana to cease all attack. She found herself caught up Quinn’s flushed face, eyes sparkling more beautifully than any star Santana had ever seen. The two gradually quietened down, breathy chuckles still filling the air as they – Quinn – regained their breath back. Their eyes were locked, smiles on both of their faces.

A pale hand reached up to stroke Santana’s cheek, thumb smoothing the skin just below black-rimmed glasses. Quinn’s legs remained wrapped around her lover’s waist whilst Santana hovered over her, pressing her hands flat on the couch to elevate her slightly. Brown eyes darted down to the blonde’s lips. Quinn watched as Santana’s tongue peeked out to wet her own lips in preparation for the kiss that was bound to come next. However, before Santana could even consider leaning down to connect their lips once again, overly dramatic music from the TV startled them, ruining the moment.

The Latina let out a quiet chuckle, eyes looking back to the screen.

“It’s almost at your favourite part.” And with that, Santana regretfully sat up off of Quinn, flopping onto the space that the blonde had previously occupied, Quinn’s legs laying across her lap.

Quinn took a second to recompose herself, confused as to why Santana didn’t kiss her. She sat up slowly, swinging her legs from atop Santana’s and tucking them back under her.

Santana was mentally kicking herself. She wished she could have just swooped down and kissed Quinn like there was no tomorrow but instead, her thoughts had to get the better of her. In that moment, gazing at Quinn beneath her, all Santana could think about was how much she had fallen for her and it terrified her that the next thing out of her mouth would have been a confession concerning exactly that. She was both grateful but pissed that this stupid freaking movie had taken that opportunity away from her.

Instead of being able to wallow over her thoughts, she was surprised – though not really – to feel a slight weight on her shoulder and an arm lay across her stomach. She tilted her head just enough to see but her vision was filled with the top of a blonde head. A small smile crept up on her lips as she wrapped her arm over Quinn’s shoulders, drawing her in closer before placing a kiss into golden hair. Both women letting out mutual sighs of contentment at the feeling.

‘I love you, Quinn Fabray.’ The words rang through her mind over and over again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Apologies for the delay. This ended up being the longest chapter yet so I’ve had to split it in two and rework a few things to fit the next chapter. Hope you’re enjoying it so far.

The next morning, Santana awoke before Quinn had, much to her annoyance considering Quinn was generally an early riser. However, it seemed that the week had well and truly taken the life out of Quinn, resulting in her falling into a deep slumber by 8:30pm. The brunette allowed her phone to land with a dull thud on the bedside cabinet after checking the time. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, careful not to wake the sleeping blonde beside her. Santana took a moment to absorb the sight before her. Quinn lay on her stomach with her head turned to face Santana, blonde hair fanned neatly over her pillow with one arm bent in front of her and her hand beneath her cheek, the other arm tucked between her chest and the mattress. Her lips were slightly parted, occasional quiet sighs being released. She looked peaceful.

Santana’s lips curled involuntarily. She wouldn’t lie, it was sort of a blessing to wake up before the other woman. It gave her the chance to truly appreciate her natural beauty. That she was the only one to see Quinn this was. There was nothing she would have loved more than to brush away the stray strands of hair from Quinn’s forehead, to stroke the soft skin of her cheek. All she had to do was close the short distance between their lips and give Quinn the wake up call she deserved… But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Quinn or to herself to place that sort of expectation on them. They weren’t a couple. They didn’t do morning kisses, unless there was a promise of sex straight away, they didn’t do breakfast in bed and they certainly didn’t do ‘I Love You’s’. Santana let out a deep breath and with one last glance at Quinn, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.

She quickly freshened up before heading to the kitchen and starting up the coffee machine. If she was ever going to function through the day, she was going to need at two cups by noon. As she waited for the drink to pour, the brunette began snacking on what was left of last night’s pizza, which turned out to be a lot. They’d barely even touched the two that she’d bought, opting to fill their faces and treat themselves to the candies instead. Most of the time, both she and Quinn were very conscious about what they were eating but there was the rare occurrence where they’d allow themselves one cheat day. Santana stood in tranquility, mindlessly chewing away at the pizza slice, not quite fully awake.

As the coffee machine hummed on the countertop, several high pitched pings came from beside the sink. Santana dusted her hands off and moved to silence the phone, feeling some unwarranted rage boil up inside of her at being disrupted out of her peaceful aura. When she snatched the phone from the counter, the screen was still lit up, with a number of text messages visible on the lock screen. Though she was still tired, Santana was always eager to snoop. However, the brunette momentarily felt a sense of guilt wash over her at the mere thought of reading Quinn’s messages. Wasn’t that a bad sign in any form of relationship? Quinn trusted her, it had taken a while but she really did and Santana wasn’t particularly keen on losing what Quinn was so cautious about giving out.

The brunette weighed out her options, she could either; fulfil her invasive secondhand nature and scroll or she could respect Quinn’s privacy and put the phone back down. It was no contest really. Santana silenced the phone with her thumb, intending on placing it on the counter again before a familiar name flashed up on the screen beneath the newer messages. Puckerman. Her brow furrowed as she pressed the home button to keep the phone lit, curiosity getting the better of her. She ignored the other messages – all from Ethan about some party he was throwing next weekend – and zeroed in on Puck’s text.

**Puckerman**

**00:26am**

**Sup baby momma, was awes seeing you this week.**

**Had a lot of fun. Hope to do it again soon, maybe even**

**stay a little longer next time?**

‘That fucking cheap, lousy man-whore,’ Santana didn’t know whether she was disgusted by the insinuation or hurt that Quinn hadn’t told her about her apparent rendezvous with her ex.

In that exact moment, the brunette felt as though her entire world was collapsing around her. The reality of her situation with Quinn slapping her hard across the face and dumping an ice cold bucket of water on her. They weren’t exclusive, they never had been. Quinn even had a… Well, he wasn’t exactly a boyfriend but she had a someone. Yet nothing about whatever she had going on with Ethan compared to the aching in Santana’s chest brought on by one, Noah Puckerman. That boy brought nothing but chaos into her life. She wouldn’t deny that he was a dopey, loveable rogue most of the time and she was proud of him when he’d decided to turn his life around but they weren’t in high school anymore. They weren’t the same people they were ten years ago and it wasn’t fair on anyone to revisit some past… Mistakes, to put it lightly.

Santana was close to responding to the text in a very lengthy, unrelenting Snixx-like manner to mark her territory. To get him to back off from Quinn. The anger was practically radiating off of her.

“You’re up early.” A sleepy voice came from the bedroom, Quinn strolling through with a yawn.

The brunette turned without thinking, Quinn’s phone still in her hand. Her jaw was tight, fury filled her eyes.

Quinn’s posture straightened when she saw what Santana was holding. “Why do you have my phone?” It wasn’t accusing, she just didn’t like it when people went through her stuff without checking it over with her. Something that Santana was well aware of.

Deep in her mind, Santana knew that she had no grounds for being jealous. She couldn’t be angry at Quinn for living her life. Quinn technically hadn’t done anything wrong but that didn’t erase the feeling of betrayal. When they’d started this whole thing, they mutually agreed to be honest about any other sorts of relationships they may have in order to prevent them from catching any unwanted infections or diseases. However, it had never came up once. Both women finding the arrangement between them far too satisfying to even humour the idea of looking elsewhere.

“Your boyfriend wouldn’t stop blowing up your phone.” There was an emphasised bite on the word ‘boyfriend’. “Thought I’d put it on vibrate before trying the wall.” She all but threw the phone into Quinn’s hand, walking over to fill her mug with coffee in the hope that it would ironically cool her down. It was far too early for her to be dealing with this kind of drama.

Quinn furrowed her brow at Santana’s tone, assuming that she was just grumpy from being up so early. She didn’t correct the Latina’s terminology in case she bit her head off for it but also didn’t care to check her phone, remaining uninformed at the reason behind Santana’s sour mood. Quinn placed the phone down on the counter and cautiously approached Santana, who now had her back to her as she busied herself with pouring her coffee. Santana stiffened when she felt arms come around her waist. Instead of relaxing into the embrace, she removed the arms with one hand and grabbed her mug with the other, walking over to take a seat at the table and opened her laptop.

The blonde tried not to be too offended at being rejected. Now she was just confused. Santana never pushed her away, not even when she was tired. In fact, Santana always welcomed any contact that they shared, regardless of her mood, and was even an instigator half of the time. Quinn stood by the counter, trying to calculate what would be the best approach to her lover next. The tension continued to build, the air was cold and all that could be heard was brisk fingers mashing away at keys. Another indication that something was bugging Santana. Quinn knew better than anyone that the publicist hated doing any work at the weekend and purposefully went out of her way to avoid it unless she had absolutely nothing – and by nothing, she meant not even a new high score on some iPhone game – to do.

Despite her fingers ruthlessly tapping away, Santana wasn’t really typing out anything of importance. She just wanted a distraction from Quinn. Everything was coming out in a blur to her as she struggled to keep her focus on the screen, knowing that her silent treatment was probably killing Quinn. It had been a long time since she’d lashed out at the other woman. In fact, she vividly remembers her attack on Quinn when the blonde babysat with Puck over a decade ago, accusing her of stealing Santana’s ‘man’. Santana mentally cursed at the dramatic irony she found herself in. Of course Mr Schue’s weird analogy about the hands of fate had come straight back to bite her in the ass with a vengeance. She checked the time on her laptop, huffing when she saw that only a torturous five minutes had passed.

“Are you okay?” The question came out meekly.

“Fantastic.”

“Did I kick you in my sleep again?” Quinn tried to lighten the mood to no avail, met with nothing but the clicking of keys. “Are you mad because we watched The Princess Bride?” She made another failed attempt.

Santana refused to respond. A part of her didn’t want to snap at Quinn, she truly had done nothing wrong and it was breaking Santana’s heart to give her the cold shoulder. On the other hand, there was a different side of her that was desperate to remind Quinn why Santana was nicknamed Snixx, that shamed Quinn for going back to Puck when they both knew she could do way better. Minutes later, she was saved from another effort of humour on Quinn’s part when she heard the blonde shuffle back to the bedroom in defeat. Santana turned her head just in time to the door close. She let out an exasperated sigh at her own behaviour. Was she reading too much into it? Did she really think Quinn would do something like that to her? They might not be dating but sometimes it felt like she wasn’t the only one experiencing the feelings that she had. In hindsight, there was no reason for her not to trust Quinn but surely she would’ve mentioned that she’d ran into Puck in Chicago unless she was ashamed of something. Maybe she thought Santana would criticise her or worse, mock her about it.

An entire hour had passed and Santana was at a standstill. Her coffee sat in its mug, barely touched as she stared blankly at her laptop and fiddled with her fingers. She glanced over at her bedroom door. It was still closed, not that she really expected anything different. Eventually, Santana decided that she’d had enough of her own bullshit and got up, walking towards the door. She knocked twice before entering, immediately seeing Quinn sitting under the covers, her knees bent with a book in her lap. The blonde turned to look at her with a questioning gaze. Santana stood in the doorway and crossed her arms. Neither of them said anything for a few moments.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It was Santana who spoke first. She assumed Quinn now knew why she had been acting out on her since she disappeared with her phone.

Quinn placed the book on the beside table, confirming to Santana that she was just using it as a distraction. The blonde sat up more comfortably.

“Nothing happened. I bumped into him at a café and we grabbed lunch together. I don’t really think that warranted an explanation.” Santana let out a humourless chuckle. “Do you really think I’d go back there with him? That I’d do that to yo-, to Ethan?” Quinn tried to catch herself and hoped that Santana hadn’t caught what she had almost said aloud. “He and I might not be as serious as he wants us to be but I’d never cheat.” – ‘with anyone but you,’ she added mentally, aware of how hypocritical she sounded.

“Never stopped you before. Seems to be one of your specialties actually.” The words were out before Santana could stop them. She didn’t even know why she said them, especially after hearing that Quinn wouldn’t cross her like that but she couldn’t help herself from making the dig.

Hazel eyes filled with hurt. Her jaw dropped as she stuttered. Quinn’s lip quivered before she quickly got it under control, not wanting to cry in front of the Latina. She had never expected Santana to throw something like that in her face. It stung. A lot. The blonde sprung out of the bed, she looked at the woman in front of her as her vision became blurred with unshed tears.

“You are unbelievable.” She struggled to maintain her composure, her voice breaking midway through the short sentence. Quinn turned to the dressing table, almost ripping the drawer from its hinges as she clawed for fresh clothing.

If Santana’s world was collapsing before, it was being torn apart and set on fire now. She watched Quinn storm around the bedroom, flinging the closet door open and scraping the coat hangers against the railing whilst she grabbed a T-shirt and pair of jeans. The brunette still hadn’t said a word.

“You know what, Santana? This little routine of yours? Where you act like this high and mighty bitch all the time? It’s pathetic.” Quinn spat out as she changed her clothes, not caring that she was stripping in front of the other woman. “You do not get to come for me and act like a child just because I didn’t think it mattered to mention a meaningless run-in with Puck.”

It wasn’t that Santana didn’t want to fight with Quinn, it’s that she couldn’t. The look on the blonde’s face after the dig she made a few moments ago was not something she took pleasure in seeing. It almost broke her entire resolve knowing that she was the sole cause for that look.

“Are you telling me that you wouldn’t feel the same way if it was me?” Her voice was hoarse. “That if you found out I’d been with Britt, you wouldn’t be the slightest bit phased by that?” Santana knew the answer to that question.

Quinn briefly froze, her jeans still unbuttoned as she looked at Santana. The brunette’s eyes watched as the other woman swallowed before answering. Hazel orbs met her own.

“Nothing happened with Puck. You don’t have to believe me but it’s the truth.” Santana noticed that Quinn had completely avoided the question, telling her everything that she needed to know.

The blonde continued getting dressed before storming out of the room, having to brush past Santana who still stood in the doorway. Quinn grabbed a pair of shoes and stumbled into them. Santana came out into the hallway, watching with unease as Quinn unlocked the front door, hand hesitating on the handle.

Santana sighed. “I do believe you, Quinn.” Her confession made the other woman falter but she refused to turn. “But we clearly have a lot to unpack between us.” Quinn remained silent. “When you walk out that door, take some time to think about what you really want… Because it would really suck if we have to hate each other again.”

The only response she received was the door swinging open before being slammed shut, shaking the wall slightly. Santana barely even flinched. At least now, she had left the ball in Quinn’s court. Her tactic could’ve used a little – a lot – of work but jumping to the initial conclusion of Puck sleeping with Quinn had triggered a dormant rage that had very obviously been building for some time now. She knew it wasn’t fair to take it all out on Quinn, especially for something she didn’t even do but the only comfort Santana had right now was believing that this fight was long overdue. With a final sigh and shrug of her shoulders, Santana decided to find something else to occupy her time with, preferring not to wallow in self-pity.

The day passed by slowly, slower than Santana thought could ever be possible. The Latina was struggling to comprehend that merely twenty-four hours ago, she and Quinn were having one of the most intimate evenings either of them had shared in their lifetimes and now they were having their biggest fight since Thanksgiving after graduation. Santana wandered aimlessly around her apartment for the entire day, going from various attempts at taking notes on work reports before losing focus and moving onto channel surfing the TV. At around six, she made herself a basic pasta dinner, not quite having an appetite but forced herself to get something down her.

Within the next few hours, Santana remained sunken into her couch watching some reality show she’d forgotten the name of, critiquing everything little thing about it. Whilst two overly plastic housewives were in the midst of yet another cat fight, Santana’s phone lit up on the table in front her, the vibration bouncing off of the wood. She glanced at the name from her place against the cushions, not really interested in who was calling at… 11:42pm, her eyes widened as she realised she’d been watching the same crappy show for at least two hours. An audible sigh escaped from her lips when she saw Quinn’s name on the screen. It took her the whole of two seconds to decide that she wasn’t going to answer. Whatever Quinn had concluded could wait until tomorrow, or at least until they could talk about it in person.

She allowed the phone to ring out only for it to start up again seconds later. Santana ignored it, trying to focus her attention back on the cat fight that was still playing out, which funnily enough resembled the ones she and Quinn used to have in high school. The phone rang out for a second time. In what was probably an attempt at third time’s a charm, Santana let out a frustrated curse as the phone vibrated almost immediately after it had stopped. She sat up in a sharp motion and snatched the phone, answering it with a growl.

“Quinn, can we not do this tonight?”

The person on the other line clearly hadn’t been expecting such an aggressive greeting as all Santana could hear was stammering… The deeper tone telling her that this was not Quinn on the phone, briefly alarming her until a familiar voice sounded out.

“Uh, sorry, it’s, uh, it’s Ethan.”

Santana rolled her eyes. God, he sounded pathetic right now. Just as she was about to make a quip, he carried on talking.

“Listen, I’m sorry for calling you so late but Quinn’s been here for like an hour and she won’t stop crying.”

The Latina scoffed. She wasn’t even surprised that he had no idea how to comfort Quinn.

“Maybe if she didn’t have to wear sunglasses every time she looked at your grill she’d be fine. Seriously, what did you think calling me was gonna do?”

Ethan was quiet for a moment. The next time he spoke, the words were hushed.

“She’s drunk… A-and all she’s done since she got here is cried and mentioned your name a bunch of times,” that got the guilt flowing again. “Santana, I don’t know what to do here.” He sounded genuinely concerned, which Santana had to give him props for. She’d always just assumed that he was some emotionless cyborg-type who was more self-obsessed than Sue Sylvester.

She exhaled through her nose and closed her eyes tightly, feeling awful for putting both Ethan and Quinn in their current positions. With a nod, she told him she’d be right over, asking for him to text the address before getting changed. Santana jogged down the stairs of her building, amazed that she hadn’t tripped at the speed she was going. Once she made it to the dimly lit street, she exclaimed a loud ‘fuck’ as the rain beat down on her, without a jacket nonetheless. Tan hands gripped steel car keys, triggering the lock until the lights on her car blinked as she made a dash for it. Santana threw herself into the driver’s seat and set off for Ethan’s place.

Twenty minutes later, she was pulling up outside one of the swankiest buildings she had ever seen. The car was barely in park before she was jumping out of it, blatantly ignoring the doorman complaining that she couldn’t leave it there. Santana walked briskly into the main lobby, empty bar a couple of security guards and an elderly couple. Seriously, this place was like a freaking hotel. Ignoring the issues of ‘you can’t be here’, Santana headed to the elevator, followed by a burly, six foot three guy asking her for identification.

“Calm down, Kevin Costner, I’m here for a friend.” Santana was not intimidated by him in the slightest, which he seemed a little hurt by. Her comment to him, however, did nothing to get him to leave her alone. As she waited for the elevator to arrive, the security guard went to take her arm, probably to escort her from the premises.

Santana pulled her arm away as soon as she caught movement from him, narrowing her eyes and putting on her best HBIC face.

“Listen, pal, this friend I’m here to see is a lawyer and I will totally sue your ass if you even think to lay a finger on me so how abouts you back up before I ends you.” Maybe threatening the security wasn’t the wisest idea she’d ever had but this elevator was taking forever and her patience was wavering.

The threat did prove effective, on the other hand, as the guard took a step back, keeping an eye on Santana before she finally disappeared onto the elevator. She pushed the button to the fifth floor before the doorman could, giving the security guard a sarcastic smile whilst the doors closed.

Thankfully, the elevator ride passed quickly and the doors had barely opened before Santana was barrelling out of it, marching through the corridor until she reached Ethan’s door. With four loud bangs against the white wood, she was soon faced with an apprehensive Ethan. He opened the door wider in a silent invitation, telling Santana that Quinn was on the couch as she walked inside.

“What happened?”

Ethan shrugged. Santana barely even acknowledged that this was the most respectable he had looked since she had met him, dressed in a grey t-shirt and plaid pyjama pants, hair free of product and teeth remarkably duller.

“She’s been drinking, I don’t know if she was alone or what, but she showed up about an hour ago, tried to.. You know, but stopped and told me we couldn’t see each other anymore and then she just started crying.” Santana looked at him and he raised his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.” If she hadn’t been so concerned about Quinn, she would’ve taken an inflatable amount of pride in the fact that she terrified the guy. “All she’s done is ask for you.”

Santana had to admit, she felt a little bad for Ethan right now. He’d literally just been dumped by a woman who was now sobbing on his couch, probably refusing to leave, but instead of freaking out or calling security, he tried his best to comfort her. He’d even gone as far as calling her best friend in the hope that she could help. The pained look on his face told the brunette that maybe he really did care about Quinn, that he wasn’t as big of a douche as Santana thought he was. She followed his directions to the living room, faced with the top of a blonde head sat on the couch, hunched over with arms around her midsection. Quinn’s shoulders were mildly shaking, indicating that she was still crying. The blonde sat up with a start when she heard Santana clear her throat. Her eyes were red, cheeks stained with tears. Santana heard her breath hitch.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn’s voice was quiet, guttural from all of the crying she had been doing.

Santana stepped forward with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Are you okay?”

Quinn let out a chuckle of disbelief, her words slurred. “Are you going to jump to a conclusion if I don’t tell you?”

Santana rolled her eyes, taking a step forward, aware that Ethan was watching the two with a baited breath. As soon as Santana got closer to the sitting woman, the smell of alcohol hit her like a tonne of bricks. She grimaced.

“Alright, Q, you wanna drink away your problems, I’m not gonna stop you but I’m gonna give you two options here. You can either sit here in a self-induced booze pity party until your boyfriend has to have your drunk ass physically removed from the building or I can drag you back to my place by that boxed dye job.” Maybe it was a little insensitive of her to attack Quinn’s appearance but she was tired and frankly, she wasn’t in the mood for dealing with a drunk Quinn Fabray even if she was the cause for her impromptu night out.

Ethan coughed awkwardly, “She can stay-”

A tan finger was directed his way.

“Listen, Richie Rich, I get the whole hero complex you’re putting on right now but I’ve seen Quinn like this and let me tell you, projectile vomit would not match the cream carpet. Seriously, it’s like The Exorcist. You might think she’s this golden princess who is good at everything but if there’s one thing she can’t handle, it’s alcohol.”

A muttered ‘screw you’ came from Quinn.

Ethan snapped his mouth shut, looking like he was about to vomit based on that visual alone. He nodded gratefully, now hoping that Santana would take Quinn off his hands. The brunette took a cautious step towards her, kneeling down in front of the lawyer, Quinn’s glassy eyes meeting her own. She tried her hardest not to show her concern but she already knew she was at a loss with this.

Santana could see that Quinn was trying to remain angry with her but as soon as their eyes met, the vulnerability she was feeling shone through. The brunette brought her hands up to rest on Quinn’s knees and rubbed them soothingly with her thumbs.

“Come home with me, Q.”

A lone tear made its way down a porcelain cheek.

“Don’t you think things would be easier if we hated each other again?” Quinn’s voice continued to crack with every word, almost repeating what Santana had told her earlier. “Because that’s the only way we work, right?”

The Latina understood where Quinn was coming from but again, she was in no mood to deal with it.

“I’m not going to beg you.” She stated firmly. “My car’s probably minutes away from being towed and I’d really rather not take an outdoor shower on the way back. Either come with me and sleep it off or stay here with the guy you just dumped and pity yourself.” Santana stood up and walked away, freezing when she heard a soft ‘wait’. She refused to turn around, eyes looking at Ethan, who looked positively traumatised at the mere thought of having to care for a clearly unstable, intoxicated Quinn Fabray.

Santana heard shuffling on the carpet. A hand wrapped itself around her bicep, the other loosely grasping at her wrist before lowering until their fingers intertwined – Santana’s moving of their own accord – as Quinn leaned her body against hers to remain fully upright. Her temple came to rest against Santana’s sweater-clad shoulder. Santana walked – or in Quinn’s case, was dragged – to the door, followed by Ethan. When the two women got into the lobby, Santana turned to him and offered a nod of gratitude.

“I know I’ve been a bitch to you,” she began, “but I appreciate that you called me… Instead of, you know, kicking her on ass.”

The dark-haired man gave a shy smile, his eyes drifting to Quinn with a fond look. “Hey, no hard feelings, okay?” Quinn responded with a look of despair, feeling terrible but also a little embarrassed at what she had just subjected him too. However, the alcohol was still working its way through her system, burying any humility she might be yet to experience.

With a final sorrowful smile, Santana kept her hand clasped with Quinn’s as they made their way to the elevator. Her imagination was running wild. Her heart was threatening to break through her rib cage. Today had been entirely unpredictable but she was highly aware that it would be nothing compared to what was to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I always had a soft spot for Quinntana so I figured why not write something. Please leave a comment and let me know what you guys thought. Thank you so much for taking the time to read it. Stay safe everyone!


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